


Our Little Secret

by AnnaNocturnal



Series: Requests and Challenges [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time, Dirty Talk, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Micropenis, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, PWP, Supernatural Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3694808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaNocturnal/pseuds/AnnaNocturnal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the result of a cruel joke, Dean wakes up one morning to find that his impressive nine inches has been reduced to a mere two—and that’s being generous. Pissed off and humiliated, Dean can’t understand Cas’ reaction to this turn of events. It would seem the angel…likes it? Yeah, he likes it a lot. [non-explicit mentions of Sabriel]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/85765.html?thread=32662277) at the spnkink-meme livejournal community and originally posted at [The Reluctant Wincester](http://girlgotagun.livejournal.com). 
> 
> I rarely make additional notes on here, preferring for my short fills to stand on their own, no matter the content, but I just want to clarify a bit: this fill _technically_ takes place in Season Eight, for actually pretty inconsequential reasons, but as we all may remember, season eight was a wangst swamp and while I very much enjoyed it in the show, I’m pretty much gonna ignore the deeper issues in this fic. So, Dean’s 33, and they’re in the bunker, and everything else take with a grain of salt. No recent return from purgatory, no former madness, no aftermath of soulless!Sam, no Dean and Cas wangst over the angel tablet, blah blah blah. Okay? Okay. Let’s light this candle, then.

Dean was exhausted. The previous night had involved an intense showdown with what was probably the nastiest witch that the Winchesters had tangled with to date, and they hadn’t gotten back to the bunker until just after four in the morning. Dean had poured himself into bed, not even bothering to remove his grime-and-gore-caked clothes, and instantly fallen asleep.

He was woken almost instantly—or at least it felt like it—by Sam’s annoying, poppy folk-rock bullshit blaring from the iPod dock in the kitchen. Dean let out a groan, rolling over to look at the clock on his bedside table, squinting hard as he confirmed that yes, it _was_ in fact eight in the fucking morning. That bitch had slept less than four hours, and then decided the whole damned bunker needed to be awake with him. 

Dean rolled over again, slamming the pillow over his head and trying to coax his mind back to sleep. After a minute, though, he had to accept that it wasn’t happening. His bladder was screaming at him to get out of bed, to release the building pressure, and he knew that once he actually got up and started moving around, he’d be up for the day. Hunters didn’t nap. Waste of time. 

So he pulled himself out of bed, grumbling, and left his room, swaying into the doorframe as he tried to master his coordination of his body. It was quite a feat, half-asleep as he was. He finally made it to the bathroom and stripped down, figuring that after he pissed he’d go ahead and shower. 

But when he leaned over the toilet, mindful of his early-morning lack of coordination as he braced one hand on the tank and reached for his dick with the other… 

_He missed._

This was alarming to Dean for a number of reasons, not the least of them being that he was thirty-three years old, meaning that his dick had been pretty much the same size for _at least_ fifteen years. And as far as he knew, it had never suddenly relocated on him. So following that, his dick should be in exactly the same place it always was. He had plenty of contact with it over the years. So there was _no_ reason that he should have reached for his dick and _missed_. 

He looked down, dreading what he would find—or not find—and nearly passed out. It was a moment before he could react any further than that, and he just kept staring at his dick in horror until his brain abruptly switched into high-gear and he let out a loud roar. 

_“That fucking witch!”_

** ~~~ **

Cas and Sam both looked up, startled, as Dean’s voice echoed through the bunker. They looked in the direction of the shouting, and then at each other, Sam’s eyes wide and Castiel’s narrowed. 

“I’ll find out what’s happened.” Cas didn’t wait for Sam to respond before he was gone. 

Sam shook his head, slightly amused at the fact that the angel still wouldn’t just walk from room-to-room, even after all of his years on earth. As for his brother, he wasn’t too worried about it. Mainly ‘cause he knew that Dean was wrong, that it had nothing to do with the witch. 

He turned down the music as he heard the tell-tale rustle of feathers behind him, a small grin tugging at his lips. 

“You shouldn’t have done that; I told you it would be a bad idea,” he said as he felt hands come to rest on his hips. 

Grabriel pressed his face against the back of Sam’s shirt, hiding his smile in the soft, warm fabric. 

** ~~~ **

Gotta be a curse…it had to be. That fucking witch last night must have managed to curse him before they finally ganked her. That was the only possible explanation. It was the only way he could go from nine inches to—in a generous estimate—two in just a matter of hours, barring radical surgery. 

He nearly had a heart attack when he looked up and saw Cas standing in the bathroom, his head cocked slightly to the side and looking at Dean, his brow furrowed as though he were puzzled. 

“You don’t appear to be injured,” the angel said, as though he could see nothing wrong with Dean’s current state. 

“Not… Dammit, Cas, are you blind?” Dean’s voice was embarrassingly high, desperate in panic. “That bitch gave me a micro-dick!” 

Cas took a moment to inspect the tiny penis, his eyes narrowed in confusion. “You’re saying that’s not its normal state?” 

“No this isn’t its normal—” Dean gaped at Cas incredulously as he noticed the angel shift uncomfortably, his hand moving to adjust his slacks none-too-subtly. “Cas…are you… _are you getting turned on?_ ” 

“I’m not sure why my body is getting aroused, Dean.” The angel looked down as though puzzled. 

Dean let out a hysterical laugh. Great. This was pretty much the only thing that could make this worse. “Well cut it out, man! It’s weird!” He looked down again and let out a strangled sob-like sound. “Oh my god, I look like an infant!” 

“Perhaps it’s a positive association in Jimmy’s brain and body, since he had a young child,” Cas mused, apparently unaffected by Dean’s plight. Figured the angel would be more concerned with the fucking physiology of his hard-on. 

“Okay, I _really_ hope, for the sake of his kid, that Jimmy does _not_ have that sort of glitch going on in his hardware. Second, Jimmy had a daughter.” Dean felt his irritation picking up when Cas just stared at him blankly. “ _I don’t look like a girl, Cas!_ ” 

“Well, technically speaking, the clitoris and the penis are the same tissue, which in the presence of the Y-chromosome—” 

“Goddammit, Cas, it’s not a fucking clit!” Dean couldn’t help it, his face flamed as he looked down again, inspecting the tiny dick. “It’s not _that_ small…” Much to his horror, he felt like he was going to cry as Cas continued to watch him. And why shouldn’t he? His dick was all but gone! 

“Perhaps it’s only so small because it’s flaccid.” 

Dean rolled his eyes. “I seriously doubt that getting hard is magically going to add seven inches.” 

Cas’ eyes flicked down to Dean’s shrunken cock again. “Seven inches? Really?” He furrowed his brow, trying to imagine it. “I would think it’s more appealing now.” 

Dean didn’t know what to say to that, so he just continued as though the angel hadn’t spoken. “Besides, I think I’m going to have a hard time getting it up to test that theory.” 

Cas’ eyes came up to meet his, and Dean saw that they were dark, glimmering with a strange heat. “I could be of assistance.” 

Dean swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly very dry. It wasn’t like he had never thought about Cas that way—hell, sometimes it seemed like he thought about everyone that way, at one time or another. Dean wasn’t picky. But the idea of the angel touching him _now_ , with over three-quarters of his normal size suddenly AWOL… Dean wasn’t too sure how that would go. 

The angel stepped closer to Dean, lust-blown eyes locked with hesitant green ones. When he spoke, his voice was a low command. “Let me assist you, Dean.” 

Dean inhaled sharply, taken aback by the sudden power he could feel radiating through the angel. 

“… Okay.” He held up a hand, stopping the angel as he reached out. “But you breathe a word of this to Sam, and I swear, you’ll the be next one to lose a dick.” 

The angel smirked. “You have my word, Dean. This will be our little secret.”


	2. Part Two

_“This will be our little secret.”_

Dean wasn't sure if the angel’s assurance was a case of unfortunate wording or if Cas was actually trying to make a joke, but either way it stung his pride, chafed at this raw ego. 

“Not funny,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a step back as Cas reached out again. 

The angel matched his movement, closing the distance between them and backing Dean into the wall. “I wasn’t attempting humor.” His hand moved to cup Dean’s balls and tiny dick, a grin spreading across his lips as he realized that everything fit easily into his palm. 

Dean let out a low grunt, his face flaming as he realized the same thing, the irritation still coursing through him making the contact chafe. He tried to jerk away from Cas, away from the hand that was now rubbing him, but the angel wouldn’t relent. Dean closed his eyes, trying to let go of the anger at his dilemma and Cas’ unintentional jab, and let his head fall back against the wall, exhaling hard. 

After a few minutes he let out a growl of frustration, his hands coming up to tangle in the lapels of Cas’ trench coat and push him away. “Dammit, Cas, stop; it’s not working.” He was angry enough to spit; at the witch, at the world, at Cas. In addition to his new and disappointing size, the curse had probably rendered him impotent. Which was just his luck, since sex was about the only constant good thing in his life. 

Cas stepped forward again, managing to recover the distance that the hunter had put between them. He leaned in, pressing his their bodies together, and Dean felt an unexpected thrill at the feeling of Cas, fully-clothed, pressed tight against his naked form. 

“Don’t give up yet, Dean.” The man’s voice was as serious and deadpan as ever, but there was a spark in his eye as he brought a hand up and grasped Dean’s jaw softly, forcing the hunter to meet his gaze, that hinted at a storm brewing in the angel. “There’s more that I can try.” He took in the hitch of breath, the slight dilation of the hunter’s pupils and smiled. “More that I _want_ to try,” he corrected himself. 

And then Cas was moving, dropping to his knees, his hands grazing down Dean’s ribs to come to rest on his hips, thumbs rubbing at crease that separated thigh from hip. He nuzzled Dean’s cock, smiling softly as his lips brushed against it, soliciting a startled hiss from the man at the gentle, barely-there contact. 

Dean stared down at him, swallowing hard as he felt the gentle ebb-and-flow of his arousal begin to hint deep in the pit of his stomach. “Cas, you don’t have too—” 

“Quit talking, Dean.” The angel’s voice was so serious as he looked up at Dean, his brow furrowed disapprovingly, that the hunter almost laughed. “You’ll distract yourself.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s much danger of that when you’re—” His words were lost in a choked cry when Cas suddenly took him into his mouth. “ _Son of a bitch!_ ” 

Cas let out a pleased hum as he easily encased the entirety of Dean’s dick in his mouth, relishing the profanity spilling from the hunter’s lips. He had seen women do this in films, like the one with the pizza man, and while the idea intrigued him he often wondered why anyone would put something so large in their mouth and risk choking. Of course, as an angel Cas didn’t really need to worry about that—still, it seemed like it would be an unpleasant sensation. This, though…this seemed _much_ more enjoyable. And from the sounds he was making, Dean seemed to agree. 

Cas nursed at the tiny cock for a few minutes until Dean was rock hard, small droplets of precum dripping out onto the angel’s tongue. To the hunter’s disappointment and the angel’s delight, his size had barely increased at all, but Dean decided that he’d worry about that later—a testament to Cas’ skill as he thrust his hips softly against the other man’s mouth, soft grunts working their way out of his throat. Cas let him thrust without restraint, enjoying the feeling of Dean’s engorged balls slapping lightly against his face. 

Another moment more and Cas opened his mouth further, taking Dean’s balls into his mouth with his cock. Startled, Dean cried out and tangled his hands in the angel’s messy brown locks, pressing his groin flush to his face as Cas sucked gently. His tongue massaged shaft and head, swirled over the sac, causing the hunter’s eyes to roll back in his head. 

“Cas…” The wrecked moan that carried the angel’s name from the hunter’s lips was the last straw for the angel’s control over himself. He had underestimated how much he would enjoy this—enjoy doing this to Dean, for Dean. He understood now why the girl in the video with the pizza man had seemed like she was having such a good time. 

He moved one of his hands from its spot on the hunter’s hip to reach down and unzip his slacks, pushing them down along with the irritating, confining fabric of his briefs. He began to stroke himself, setting a quick and efficient pace, and the sight drew a low whine from Dean’s throat when he looked down and saw what the angel was doing as his mouth continued the gentle suction on his dick and balls. 

“God, Cas, I can’t…I need…” The hunter was at a loss, unsure of what he wanted, other than that he wanted _something_ , more, anything. 

And then Cas was moving away again, his mouth releasing Dean’s cock and sac with an obscene popping noise. The hunter whined as the wet flesh was met with cool air, his hips thrusting needfully into empty space, seeking out contact, relief. 

Then the angel was on his feet, his hands shifting Dean’s body, guiding him to face the wall, then to brace his hands against it as he pressed his body against Dean’s. The angel’s hard cock slid against the soft flesh of the hunter’s inner thigh, causing him to release a low groan of pleasure. 

“Press your legs together.” The angel’s lips brushed against Dean’s ear at the command as he reached around, cupping Dean’s crotch once more, a thrill going through him as his hand completely obscured the small cock. He couldn’t understand why the hunter was upset about this change in his body when Cas found himself enjoying it as much as he was. 

Dean complied and Cas began to thrust, sliding his own cock through the sweat-slick press of the hunter’s muscular thighs, his hand rubbing, stroking, and pressing against the man’s dick in a matching rhythm. 

“Dean,” the angel muttered, his lips teasing at Dean’s neck, pressing light kisses and nipping bites at the skin, trailing down to his shoulder and back. “You feel so good…so perfect. So pretty, delicate in my hand…” 

Dean didn’t want to admit what being called those things was doing to him when it was rasped at him in the other man’s serious, sincere voice. He let his head fall forward, hanging down as he watched the angel’s hand covering him completely, hiding him as he stroked him off, while the head of Cas’ own cock disappeared and reappeared between his thighs and his hips snapped against the hunter’s ass. 

It was only a few minutes before Dean could feel his orgasm rapidly approaching, pulling him under almost before he realized it was happening, and judging by the angel’s increasingly erratic pace, Cas wasn’t far behind. 

“ _Shit!_ Fuck, I’m coming…don’t stop! _Cas!_ ” The hunter’s fucked-out voice was loud, much louder than he meant for it to be, than he even realized it was. The angel gave one last thrust, one last first squeeze-and-stroke to Dean’s cock, and then they were both coming, the angel’s seed coating the inside of Dean’s thighs sticky white as his own painted the wall in front of him. 

Maybe this whole tiny dick thing wasn’t as bad as he thought, as long as it wasn’t permanent, Dean thought grudgingly. 

** ~~~ **

_“Shit! Fuck, I’m coming…don’t stop! Cas!”_

Gabriel smirked as Sam choked on his eggs, his face flaming hot and bright at the sound of his brother’s pleasure-wracked pleas. 

“Maybe not as bad an idea as you thought, eh, Sammy?” 

Sam couldn’t argue with that. 

  
**The End.**   
_I hope you enjoyed it. :)_   



End file.
